


Golden Dust, Lucky Must

by lovetelit



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, some fashion stuff, some gangster stuff, yayay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 21:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetelit/pseuds/lovetelit
Summary: Kyungsoo wakes up at midnight, only to come face to face with the God of Luck trying to steal his flowerpots.





	Golden Dust, Lucky Must

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this fic is honestly a jumble and it's been in my mind for a while now, so I hope readers will enjoy it ;3 thank you to wife and soulbro for reading this over and esp wife for being thru every breakdown w this fic (cos holy fuck there were a lot) 
> 
> ANYWAY i hope you guys will enjoy the fic as much as i liked writing it!

Curved along the road in the heart of town was a huge clock. It was built like a statue, with the sculpture of a woman attached to it at the bottom. The woman was made of the finest marble, white with black streaks that were never too closely clumped together, yet never too far apart either. The clock itself was gold, intricately designed with small sculptures of people doing all sorts of things in life- be it reading, painting, eating- they were perched around its frame. It chimed at noon, and stopped for a second at midnight.

At midnight, everything paused. Every human halted their breathing, every stray cat was frozen, and even the wind stopped blowing. Then, a being would appear by the woman, and she would come alive as well, patting the being that had just appeared, passing him a satchel with small tinkles of blessing. The being, Jongin, had only one mission in life; to bless as many people as he could in that short amount of time before the charm dies and the clock starts moving again. He was one of the Gods of Luck, responsible for a human waking up on the right or wrong side of the bed. 

Sometimes he would get distracted from his job though. The town had one male that he could never look away from. He was beautiful, and meeting him was always a surprise, because he was never living at only one place. He moved around a lot and whenever Jongin accidentally stumbled upon him, he froze, hands curled tightly around the golden dust that was luck. Jongin never thought a human could be this beautiful, but he was proven wrong every time his eyes laid on him.

He smiled now, looking at the male's sleeping form, hands forming fists underneath his head. The room today was really dark, and every step Jongin took made the wooden floor creak. It was terribly cold too, and the human was without any blankets. 

Jongin frowned. The other must be freezing right now. It didn't seem right if he just left the human to shiver into morning light. 

He untied the knot that held the emerald velvet cape around him, draping it on the small human and smiling at the warmth it would definitely give him. He sprinkled on the dust, giving him a little bit extra. The clock chimed just as Jongin's foot stepped on the stone floors outside, and he ran back to the clock, shivering slightly.

Soojung was there, marble eyes watching him. "Whatever happened to your coat?"

Jongin shrugged, before walking behind Soojung and into the invisible portal. It was time for him to go to another country, with a timezone that had just struck twelve as well.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo was what people called a hustler. He does odd jobs that could get him enough coins in his pocket, which he will then use to stay overnight at someone's room. Often times the rooms were old and horrible, but when desperation peaked comfort, it didn't matter.

The odd job for today was working down at the florist's. Kyungsoo woke up with a green cape over him, and he wondered briefly if the house owner had been kind enough to give it to him. That would imply that the owner checked in on him at night though, which wasn't a very comforting thought. 

He let his fingers skitter over the fine fabric. It was made of soft velvet, and the rich colour of emerald made it even more exquisite. The owner didn't look like someone who had lots of money at all so this cape couldn't be his, could it? Kyungsoo got up from the bed, washing his face and mouth before leaving, cape draped over his shoulders. It was way too long for him, and didn't fit him well at all, but he wasn't a picky person.

The owner didn't say anything as he left, and Kyungsoo guessed the cape really wasn't his. He shrugged. Maybe he should be more worried about the origins of this cape, but he was a hustler. He didn't _care_ where these things came from. Only how he could utilize it. And this cape was so, _so_ warm. Kyungsoo had lived in torn pants and shirts with more stitches than buttons- this was a welcoming piece.

The cape probably won't fit inside his satchel, but Kyungsoo could always throw that small mug he carried just in case no one wanted to hire him (and he had to resort to begging). Maybe some other tidbits too. He kept too much paper in the bag for someone who had little to no time to do anything but sleep.

His stomach grumbled then, and Kyungsoo sighed sadly. He didn't have any spare change from the night before, and there was no time to scavenge a trashcan. He just had to steel through it today.

"Hey, Kyungsoo!" A voice called, and the called turned to face a policeman dressed primly in his uniform- navy coat with buttons that go down on the left instead on the middle, a belt right at the waist, and boots that stopped right at the calves. 

He whispered lowly. "Didn't peg you as a policeman when I met you years ago, Jongdae."

"Things change." Jongdae replied, grinning as he fixed the belt. "How do I look?"

"Dashing." Kyungsoo murmured, eyeing the golden medal that hung right on Jongdae's chest. Jongdae smiled, patting Kyungsoo on the shoulder before giving him a paper bag. It was warm. "Here you go. I had some extra from breakfast this morning. You can have them."

Kyungsoo blinked, peeking into the bag to see a croissant. He gulped, and maybe salivated. Just a little. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Haven't seen you around town lately. Where have you been?"

"Up north, somewhere." Kyungsoo muttered, taking only two bites of the pastry before pushing it inside his satchel even if all he wanted to do was shove the rest of the pastry into his mouth. He had to save it for lunch. 

"Well, it's good to see you around again. The town folks have certainly missed you." Jongdae continued, "some are even contemplating giving you free lodgings at their room. If you were to stay permanently, that is."

"Not interested." Kyungsoo said, shrugging his shoulders when Jongdae gave him a sad look. 

"Still not about that permanent residence thing, eh?"

"It's not that I'm not about it," Kyungsoo muttered under his breath, "it's just that I can't."

And when Jongdae gave him a mystified look, Kyungsoo only bowed slightly, leaving quickly through the crowd and only smiling at those who greeted him. 

 

 

 

Junmyeon, the florist Kyungsoo worked for, was a very kind man. It was noticeable in his small smiles and gestures. They weren't overwhelming, but they left Kyungsoo smiling at night anyway. 

"Do you mind staying overnight? There's been reports of some robbery around town, and I'm afraid for my flowerpots." The florist said just as Kyungsoo was packing up to leave. He had been thinking about where to sleep the whole hour they spent closing shop, but this immediately diminished every thought. 

"Sleep here?"

"Yes, I have some blankets you can use in the backroom," Junmyeon said, smiling. Kyungsoo knew there hadn't been any robberies around. The town was a group of close-knit people. If someone was stealing, they would immediately know who. 

"For free?" Kyungsoo asked, voice soft. Junmyeon's eyes flickered with an emotion. Pity? Sympathy? Kyungsoo didn't know.

"Yes," the other replied, grabbing his briefcase. "Goodnight Kyungsoo, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," the hustler whispered, even though the bells above the door have tinkled over two minutes ago. He set the blankets on the floor behind the counter. There was enough blankets to keep him warm, yet Kyungsoo still reached out for the green cape, placing it beneath his head as a pillow.

The night was silent and even after a few attempts, he still couldn't sleep. Kyungsoo ruffled through the cupboards, finding a wax candle and lighting it up. He pulled out the pieces of paper he kept in his ratty satchel, as well as a pencil. 

By the low light, Kyungsoo drew, thinking of Jongdae in his uniform earlier and smiling at the image. If Jongdae were to go up in rank, his golden medals would increase and maybe his uniform would appear more regal. Perhaps a brooch on the chest with chains connecting it to his button. 

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he knew the last thought had been about golden shoulder pads- though that might be too princely for a policeman. Maybe a blue cape should be the next fashion piece for a policeman, Kyungsoo thought, something like the green cape beneath his own head.

 

 

 

There was someone touching his face. Kyungsoo resisted the urge to open his eyes. Years of surviving alone had taught him a few things, and the most important one was how the element of surprise could really help a person at times like these.

It was a light touch, merely a graze under his jaw, but Kyungsoo was ready to break the culprit's arm. He wondered if there really was a burglar loose in town. He didn't think he saw anyone new around, so it was impossible, but then again...

Kyungsoo got up quietly when he heard footsteps going away, heading towards the entrance of the shop. He didn't even think to look for a weapon, immediately crashing the other person down and elbowing the back of the man's neck. Hard.

The burglar yelped, helpless under Kyungsoo's weight. Kyungsoo glared at the man below him, not recognising his face at all. There were gold dust surrounding him, and some were even stuck in his hair and lashes. It was too dark to see anything else, so Kyungsoo gruffly grabbed the burglar's arms, holding them to his back and bringing him to a chair. He made quick work of tying the man's hands. 

"What were you even trying to steal?" Kyungsoo asked as he searched for the phone. The burglar didn't reply, instead squirming in his seat. Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at him before turning to the cabinet below the cashier counter, finally finding what he had been looking for. Kyungsoo let out a low hum of triumph, ready to dial the police’s hotline but when he returned to the chair where he had tied the burglar up, the man was gone, leaving behind the rope and a trace of golden dust. 

How was that even possible? Kyungsoo was so sure he tied the burglar up firmly. A fucking dead knot that even Kyungsoo would struggle to untangle. Yet the rope laid across the chair limply, as if it had not been used at all. 

Kyungsoo picked a candle up, lighting it up to inspect the chair even closer. His heart beat fast, the glinting golden dust on the floor beside the chair disappearing slowly, right before his very eyes. It was almost miraculous. Kyungsoo didn't believe in ghosts, but there was something supernatural going on. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what it was, exactly.

He grabbed his papers in the satchel, an attempt at distraction from what just happened. The burglar that had escaped from his grasp- right under his nose- just a few seconds ago. Something humanly impossible had just occurred in front of him, and he wanted to forget about it. The room suddenly seemed darker, the draft of the night suddenly colder. 

Kyungsoo tried to think of Junmyeon's white shirt and pastel pink dress pants instead; how both had paired so well with the baby blue apron his shop provided. Kyungsoo sketched cactus enamel pins along the top of the apron, embroidery on the sleeves of the white shirt, and perhaps pants that were folded at the bottoms. 

He heaved a sigh of relief when his heart stopped thudding as fast as it had, his fear slowly disappearing. Kyungsoo kept the papers, folding it into the secret compartment in his satchel. The candle flame continued to burn, wax trickling down onto the pan beneath. Kyungsoo stopped it all with a single blow, the only light being the moon rays filtering through the thin curtains and into the room. Golden dust danced behind his lids, but Kyungsoo willed himself to ignore it as sleep beckoned once again.

 

 

 

When Kyungsoo opened his eyes again, it was to Junmyeon's smiling face. He smelled cheese; cheddar on bread, a novelty at this point for Kyungsoo. His mouth watered as Junmyeon held the sandwich out for him, gesturing for him to eat it all. Kyungsoo almost cried when the cheese met his tastebuds, a single luxury on stale tongue. 

The morning was going far smoother than Kyungsoo expected, but he kept remembering the burglar, golden dust, the rope still laid on the chair, untouched, undisturbed.

"What's up with the chair?" Junmyeon asked as he opened the cash register. Kyungsoo dragged it away, grinning sheepishly, _pretending_.

"Just in case the burglar came, it'd be easier for me to tie him up and keep an eye on him.” He said, trying to make his grin as wide as possible.

Junmyeon chuckled, nodding along, believing Kyungsoo. He didn't know why he couldn't bring himself to tell Junmyeon the truth, but something about last night told him Junmyeon won't believe him anyway.

"How was your night? Bearable?"

"I rate your hotel five stars Junmyeon," Kyungsoo replied, pleased to see Junmyeon's returning smile. 

"Well, here's your pay," Junmyeon said, tossing him a pouch filled with coins. "Have a good day Kyungsoo!"

He took the money graciously, leaving the shop with lingering thoughts of last night. Not one to let a thought consume him, Kyungsoo set out to find a temporary job for the day, and found one when the milk truck came and Yixing stepped out. 

Yixing never actually needed help, Kyungsoo knew, but he always gave Kyungsoo a random task to do anyway. He bounded over to him, happy when he was passed a milk crate to distribute amongst some apartments. 

The milk bottles jingled in the crate, glass bottles hitting each other lightly as Kyungsoo climbed up the stairs. This was an easy twenty bucks. Kyungsoo righted his satchel on his shoulder, ringing the doorbell of the first house with a bright smile on his face.

The day had begun, the town was still the same, and Kyungsoo's night may have been strange but all of that must have been a dream. _That's right_ , Kyungsoo told himself as he passed milk bottles to the patrons of the apartment, _nothing but bad dreams_.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo knew he should keep his money for better use but the temptation of a cup of hazelnut latte was too strong for Kyungsoo to ignore. He walked to Kim's Coffee and Crepes with the intent to indulge himself. His luck was picking up finally after five years. Kyungsoo thought he deserved a reward.

Three months in one town was a feat for him, one that he never thought he would achieve. He just couldn't bring himself to move away from this town yet again. It had always been his favourite.

Minseok grinned at him when he came in, knowing his order without it being said. The café was fairly occupied for three p.m., the smell of coffee and something sweet- cake, maybe- wafted in the air. The radio played R&B in low volume, accompanying Kyungsoo, his thoughts, and his cup of hazelnut latte. 

The thing about this particular town was how comfortable it was. Everyone knew each other, creating warmth amongst the community. It made Kyungsoo, the straggler, the odd one out, feel strangely belonged. It made him want to stay. _That_ was always dangerous.

His mind wandered. Without any distraction of work, he thought about the burglar- ghost?- that had come to the flower shop last night. That had been peculiar, and the worst thing was that he couldn't even remember the man's face now. Telling the police was impossible at this point.

Kyungsoo sighed. He had free time till six, so he took out the papers in his satchel, drawing figures on the plain white. Pleated fabric followed, his eyes tracing the similar detailing on Minseok's apron. Pleats down the front of the dress, belt a dusty purple to go with the beige dress, and a sleek design with no buttons.

In fashion, Kyungsoo's worries disappeared. It was so easy to forget, so simple to just let himself be lost in the papers and the designs. All the outfits he planned, all the detailings of ruffles, pleats or tassels- they made him feel at peace.

He wished he could draw forever, think about clothes forever, plan a velvet or leather clutch for an outfit forever, but alas, life still waited for him. 

Six p.m. came and Kyungsoo finished his latte. He had to find Sunyoung. Her house needed cleaning and her spare bed was waiting for him.

 

 

 

"Ah, my knight in shining armour finally came!" Chanyeol called as soon as Kyungsoo walked through the door of the bakery. He resisted the urge to leave, taking his place behind the cashier counter as he grumbled. "Don't be like that Soo, I know you miss me!"

"You and I must have different depictions of that feeling."

Chanyeol laughed, smile wide even when Kyungsoo didn't return it. "I know deep down you do,"

An apron was tossed his way, and Chanyeol stepped to the back, probably to pester his pastry chef next. "Have fun out here, I'll see you later!"

Kyungsoo slumped against the counter, finally left to his own devices. The bakery was empty, white tables and furnitures a nice accent to the baby blue walls. All types of bread, confectioneries and tarts lined in the display cases against the walls, already filled and lined with Chanyeol’s buns and the like. Kyungsoo could feel the hours slowly tick by. 

It was going to be a long day.

 

 

 

Night fell in navy and indigo. He snacked on the bread Chanyeol gave him before he left, the small bits of ham a delight he found addictive. He should work at the bakery more.

While his dinner was settled, the question of sleep came. He could go knock on anyone's door and they would accept him willingly, but Kyungsoo had always been wary of any sort of attachment. It was proven in how he moved from town to town a lot. Although, he may already have some sort of sentiments towards this town already, seeing as how it was already his second time living here. 

Kyungsoo settled on a park bench, eyes on the street lamp that attracted moths with its light. The wood of the bench was hard against Kyungsoo's back, but he could barely care about that then. Sleep came fast for his fatigued body, and Kyungsoo embraced it as readily, dreaming of a time when he wouldn't have to be so aware of the people surrounding him.

 

 

 

It was the loud chime of the clock that woke Kyungsoo up. The sky was still dark, crickets still singing happily into the night sky. He wondered what time it was as he got up. Rubbing his eyes blearily, Kyungsoo shouldered his satchel, getting up to perhaps go somewhere further away from the clock statue in town but familiar gold dust stopped him in his tracks. The dust trailed on the pathway, leading all the way to the direction of the clock statue. 

Kyungsoo blinked in decision, stepping towards the trail curiously. He had wondered what the hell the dust was, and if his past experience with it had taught him something, it was that the dust faded in time, so if Kyungsoo wanted to catch the stranger this time, he had better hurry up. 

The sight that greeted him once Kyungsoo did follow the trail was not one he expected at all. His heart stopped, throat lodged with fear and disbelief as he watched the marble statue move and talk to the burglar himself. Kyungsoo rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what exactly he was seeing.

Was Kyungsoo still asleep? This was some sort of weird dream, wasn't it? How could something made out of marble be moving? Kyungsoo stepped away from the tree he had been hiding behind, shaking his head as he turned. His steps were loud as he walked away, catching the attention of the burglar and the marble statue. He broke into a run as soon as he heard someone calling for him from behind. 

Kyungsoo's heart thudded, glancing behind him to see the burglar still running after him. What the hell does he want? He should just let Kyungsoo escape peacefully. Kyungsoo had been kind enough not to complain about him to the police after all. 

"Wait up!" The stranger called, finally caught up with Kyungsoo, hand wrapping around his wrist. Kyungsoo paled as the stranger pulled him to a stop.

"I won't tell anyone that you were stealing Junmyeon's pots so please let me go," Kyungsoo begged, trying to wrench his hand away, but the burglar was too strong, not relenting in his grip at all. 

"What?” The burglar questioned, looking puzzled. “I wasn't trying to steal his pots.”

"Your presence at the shop at two a.m. isn't exactly a nice record against that statement, buddy." Kyungsoo scoffed, finally able to grab his wrist back when the burglar finally loosened his hold. Why was he being sarcastic? He just saw this man talk to a marble statue; he should really be more afraid.

"I wasn't- you know what, that doesn't matter," The stranger panted, letting out puffs as he heaved. "Did you- did you see Soojung just now?"

"Soojung?" 

"Ah," Jongin sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat, shivering slightly due to the cold. "The Goddess of Charisma, as you humans call it.”

"'Us humans?'" Kyungsoo echoed, "Are you really not human or are you being an obnoxious person?"

The stranger laughed, eyes crinkling around the corners. Kyungsoo finally noticed some golden gems by his right temple, trailing into golden dust on his cheek. It seemed to melt into the man's face, not like a makeup look but rather, part of his skin. Like a beauty mark. Kyungsoo stepped away when he realised how the man had a fucking silhouette of gold around him. 

Kyungsoo's breath hitched. "Wait, are you really not human?"

The man laughed sheepishly, "Listen, I'd elaborate but I'm really tight on schedule, so, apologies in advance.” 

Kyungsoo tilted his head, wondering what the guy was even talking about before a cloud of golden dust hit him in the face.

 

 

 

The next morning, Kyungsoo halted in his steps when he passed by the statue. His eyes trailed every detail, but everything seemed normal, like it had been all the times before. The Goddess Of Charisma still looked and stood the same, her dainty arms holding the huge clock above her as she looked ahead, only a slight twitch to her lips. 

Kyungsoo wondered if he had been dreaming about everything after all. Was he finally going crazy like his father had told him repeatedly before? 

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice inquired, and Kyungsoo met the familiar warm eyes of Jongdae. He smiled slightly, shaking his head as if it was nothing. 

"Out for your daily rounds?" He asked instead, walking with Jongdae, away from the statue and towards the notice board in the town's community hall. Jongdae pinned a poster on the notice board, smiling at Kyungsoo’s curious eyes. 

"Reports of gang activities have been coming in like a storm these days, so a precaution is being carried out," Jongdae explained. If he felt Kyungsoo stiffening, he didn't mention it. Kyungsoo kept his eyes solely on the familiar face on the poster, swallowing harshly.

"They're mostly in the city though," Jongdae continued, regarding Kyungsoo with worried eyes. "You okay?"

Kyungsoo forced a smile, trying to look nonchalant even if the familiar glare on the poster made him uneasy. "I'm fine, just- just worried."

Jongdae nodded, not suspicious at all. "That's normal. If you need anything, just come to my house okay?"

Kyungsoo managed a nod, staying there even as Jongdae bid his goodbye. His eyes couldn't leave the face of his own father on the poster, the 'Do' name written in clear font on the paper. Kyungsoo turned away, tightening the green cape around him as he headed for the tailor shop. 

He had been excited about this job and he wouldn't let his father’s reappearance ruin the experience today.

 

 

 

Walking through the boutique was like a dream that Kyungsoo had been waiting to live. Sehun showed him around easily- the sewing room, the break area, and where each type of clothing was situated. Kyungsoo followed like an obedient puppy, eagerly drinking up all the information Sehun relayed on him. 

Working the cashier till was boring, but when a customer came in, he tried his best to help them, grin wide as they praised his styling options. Something in his chest moved, his love for fashion only overflowing. 

When the day was over, Sehun patted the seat next to him on the bench where he was situated. He was sewing on small fabric flowers on a wedding dress, the skirt full and falling down in a graceful way. Sehun was talented in this line of work, Kyungsoo came to realise. Every single one of his clothing was made to perfection. 

"You were better than I expected," Sehun said, looking at him through the thin-rimmed glasses. "It'd be nice if you'd dress nicer the next time you came to work here though."

"Next time?" Kyungsoo asked, not even bothering to take the hopeful edge of his voice away.

"Yeah," Sehun grinned, before he pointed at the rack towards the back. "There's some of last season's clothes there, you can take them if you want."

Kyungsoo slackened against the table, waiting to see if Sehun would laugh and tell him it was just a joke, but it never came. Kyungsoo gaped. "You're serious."

"Yes?" Sehun raised an eyebrow, "Did I look like I was joking? I'm sure there's a really nice sweater there, go ahead and pick whatever you fancy."

Kyungsoo stood slowly, heading to the rack that seemed to glimmer like a pirate's treasure to him. He gulped when he saw a perfect dusty pink sweater. It may be a little too big on him, but it felt so soft. Cashmere, Kyungsoo noted absentmindedly as he hugged it close to him. There was some high waisted grey slacks towards the back, and Kyungsoo picked those too. 

"You're free tomorrow?"

Kyungsoo shook his head, "I have a job at the police station. I'm free the days after though,"

Sehun smiled- the kindest one so far- shoving a beret on Kyungsoo's head. "Take that too, and see you on Tuesday,"

Kyungsoo beamed, heart rising as he hopped all the way to the park bench. He carefully folded and placed all his new clothes in the satchel, lying his head on it as he attempted to sleep. The stars twinkled; like how Kyungsoo's happiness came in soft bursts of silver, glimmering in Kyungsoo's heart. 

He was going to have good dreams today, he was sure of it.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo woke up in the middle of the night again, this time not because of anything but the loud footsteps that seemed to echo into the sky. He glanced around, almost ready to see golden dust on the floor beside him, but nothing. 

He straightened, more alert than ever. Rustles of grass, someone running, then silence. Kyungsoo curled into himself, clutching his satchel tightly. 

"Baekhyun!" A voice called, and that one name made all the blood in Kyungsoo wither, panic coming back in full force. His hand was trembling, and he pressed himself against the park bench, hoping the wood would just cover him up. 

It was impossible. They couldn't have traced Kyungsoo. Not now. Kyungsoo had tried so hard to run away, had done everything in his power to make sure they never find him, but why? 

"Baekhyun? Anything?" The same voice called again, and Kyungsoo stiffened when a familiar voice replied with the negative. The voice brought back memories he never wanted to resurface, and though Kyungsoo willed it away, they still came anyway. 

 

 

 

_"Kyungsoo?"_

Baekhyun called out, searching for him in the huge warehouse his father owned. Kyungsoo would reply him and call for him too, if he wasn't trembling from the tips of his toes to the last strands of his hair. The gun was still in his hand, heavy with the weight of what exactly Kyungsoo had done.

His father had brought one of his men to Kyungsoo, all beaten up and hands bound. The man had been part of the police after all, and they had to quickly move out lest they get caught. His father had passed him the gun, eyes expectant on him. 

The pressure when he was fourteen had been crazy and Kyungsoo held the weapon in his hand with wide eyes, staring at the spy in fear. 

"Go on, Kyungsoo," His father's voice was smooth like velvet but sharp like a bed of nails. Grating at Kyungsoo's side slowly. "Just one shot to his head,"

His hands were trembling as he held the gun right to the spy's forehead, eyes watering. His father continued to urge him, voice slowly edging towards anger the longer Kyungsoo delayed killing the spy. The anger rang in Kyungsoo's ears, his father screaming in his ear to shoot the man and Kyungsoo just stood there, shaking, before finally. 

The man laid dead, not moving, and Kyungsoo barely felt his father's proud pat on his shoulder as he left the room. Kyungsoo couldn't move, eyes still wide as he stared down at the man. The gun dropped from his hand as he slowly took a step back, wanting to get away from the corpse. 

Kyungsoo felt bile rise the moment the tears fell. His father's workers moved quietly around him, cleaning the corpse of the man and not once talking to him at all. Everyone knew the nature of being a gangster, even Kyungsoo did, but it didn't make doing what he did any less hard. 

He was still crying when Baekhyun came, the usual smile on his face not present for once. His voice was small as he held out a hand for Kyungsoo to take, “Kyungsoo, we have to go,"

He nodded, letting Baekhyun drag him towards the car that his father was already in, sitting with a straight face as if he had not just watched his own son kill a man. Baekhyun squeezed Kyungsoo’s hand in comfort, a gesture Kyungsoo was definitely grateful for. Baekhyun had been one of his father’s many wives' son. The woman died, Kyungsoo guessed, and Baekhyun never seemed to want to talk about his mother, so he guessed his theory was right.

"Great job in there Kyungsoo," his father said once the car started moving. Kyungsoo didn't know where they were headed to next, didn't know who else he would have to kill in the future- and that scared him. 

"Did we have to kill him?" He asked, voice small and afraid. His father didn't say anything, but his glare was imminent in its message. Kyungsoo didn't ask anything again. Never did. 

Baekhyun held his hands, squeezing it in reassurance again, and at some point, Kyungsoo had started to become dependant on these morsels of comfort.

 

 

 

A hand on his shoulder was what made Kyungsoo come back to the present. He stiffened, turning around to see a shock of messy hair, a face that Kyungsoo sometimes thought of on weaker nights. A wide eye focused on him, the other one shut with a huge scar running across it- Kyungsoo wondered what had happened to his other eye. It hadn’t been there when he left. A shiver ran up his spine when the man spoke, "It's really you."

Kyungsoo didn't think, nor did he give Baekhyun even a glance again, immediately pushing Baekhyun’s hand away and ran. His steps were loud against the night, Baekhyun’s heavy combat boots following behind him felt almost like a thunder rumble, all set out to capture him. Baekhyun was shouting at his friends, telling them to catch Kyungsoo, and he panicked, satchel still clutched tightly against himself. 

The clock chimed right at that moment, loud in the quiet night. 12 a.m., Kyungsoo thought briefly, stopping when he reached the statue. Baekhyun’s footsteps couldn't be heard anymore, and Kyungsoo briefly wondered where he had gone to. 

Had he been that lucky to actually lose Baekhyun in a chase? That seemed unlikely. 

"Ouch Soojung, what the fuck!" Kyungsoo heard in between his pants for breath. _Soojung, The Goddess Of Charisma_. He turned to find her looking right at him, marble eyes staring down at him before looking at the other man present. 

The burglar. Of course. 

"What- I have _got_ to be dreaming right now." He whispered, still looking at Soojung who sighed, placing the clock beside her just to knock the stranger in his head again.

"I wish this were a dream Kyungsoo, but unfortunately, it's not." Soojung said, now rubbing the area she had hit the burglar, trying to soothe it. "Jongin here had done something to you clearly, and somehow you're not affected by this stupid magic thing that makes you stop moving."

"What?" Kyungsoo dumbly asked, looking at Soojung, then the burglar- or rather, Jongin.

Soojung sighed again, looking at Jongin. "You, go do your job. Kyungsoo you stay here."

He didn't know why exactly he stayed, heeding to Soojung’s orders, but she _was_ a huge statue. Kyungsoo didn't want to to be hit on the head by those marble hands too. "So he's not a burglar then?"

"No,” Soojung regarded him again after making sure Jongin had truly gone to do his job, whatever it was. “This is awkward to explain, but he's one of the gods of luck."

"God of luck?" Kyungsoo repeated, incredulous in his stare. 

"You're not very sharp, are you?" Soojung mused, tilting her head. It still felt surreal to see her moving around just like a human, albeit her moves were slightly slower. "G.O.D is a whole huge organisation and basically we're what you guys call religions or whatever. There's different sectors to which different beliefs are at work, _blah blah blah_ and well, Jongin and I are part of the organisation. His job is to spread luck to everyone in various towns at 12 a.m., when time would stop for a while. Somehow you're not affected by that. At least, not anymore."

"That's...a lot to take in," Kyungsoo muttered under his breath, eyebrows scrunched in thought. If whatever pseudo-magic thing Soojung had been telling him was true, then that meant Baekhyun and his friends were probably frozen and unable to find him. He perked up. "So...can I go now then?"

"Not so fast," Soojung grabbed his hand, halting his movements. "We need to discuss this, so we're waiting for Jongin to come back."

Kyungsoo deflated. Soojung only looked at him, before picking the clock up again, pressing the middle where the hands of the clock meet. A portal opened in bursts of gold and magenta. Kyungsoo stared at it, his feet frozen in place and mouth agape in shock and awe. 

"You can stay in the in-between first, Jongin will join you when he's done."

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, still too amazed to even form coherent words. This pseudo-magic thing might actually be true. _Holy shit_. 

Soojung rolled her eyes, giving him a slight push towards the portal. 

The in-between- as Soojung had called it- was just levels upon levels of turning cogs that spun in loud grunts, connected to each other to ensure that every single cog was moving the right way. Clocks hung on every surface of the terracotta walls, and loud chimes were heard in between every minute. Looking up, he could peek a huge bell that didn't move nor made a sound. He had guessed the cogs were turning to generate something, but was it for the bell or not?

It was quite a long wait before Jongin appeared with Soojung by his side. Jongin had on a cape similar to the one around his own shoulder. The gems on Jongin’s temples twinkled, golden dust glimmering on his cheeks and practically all around his body. He just had this golden hue to him, one that couldn't be achieved even with just makeup. Definitely not human.

"Sorry you got dragged into this mess." Jongin said immediately after dusting Kyungsoo with his own dose of whatever that golden dust represented, hands fidgeting. 

Kyungsoo shrugged. "It's pretty cool to be able to move while no one else can." 

"There's always side effects to magic Kyungsoo," Soojung quipped, dampening his excitement. 

"How are you The Goddess Of Charisma again?" Kyungsoo asked, squinting at the statue now. "You barely have any tact." 

"I'm not actually The Goddess of Charisma," Soojung answered, "That's just a front. I'm actually just a timekeeper."

Kyungsoo blinked, "I...okay, so just more mumbo-jumbo about magic again. Got it. Now can i get out of here?"

"We need to find out what's wrong with you," Jongin said, gripping the edges of his cape. "You were, after all, affected once upon a time, but suddenly...you're just not."

Kyungsoo sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "So, what do I have to do now?"

Jongin kept quiet, looking at Soojung, who only looked back at Jongin. Kyungsoo groaned. "You both don't know either, do you?"

Jongin and Soojung had the decency to look ashamed at least. They didn't say anything for a while, leaving Kyungsoo to wonder what the fuck does this organisation do, actually. No wonder so many people were atheists these days.

"We should probably collect some data on you to file some paperwork first." Jongin muttered finally, producing some papers and a pen from his satchel that he carried around with him.

"Name?" Jongin inquired, and Kyungsoo realised sinkingly that he was being serious. It was quite a bummer of a solution after all the magic he had seen in just the past half an hour.

He sighed, ruffling his hair slightly before answering. "Do Kyungsoo."

It went on for a while, the exchanging of question and information. Kyungsoo really just wanted some sleep, and maybe a bite of some food. His stomach grumbled then, further proving his point. Jongin glanced at him with pity, which Kyungsoo hated. Out of everything, the look of sympathy from strangers had always peeved Kyungsoo. 

Soojung had left them minutes ago, and Jongin slowly looked through the details he had gotten from Kyungsoo, before he grabbed onto his hand. "Let's get you something to eat."

"What?" Kyungsoo tried to pull his hand away, but Jongin had a firm grip on it, although it loosened at Kyungsoo's resistance. "There's no restaurant open at this hour."

"There is," Jongin said simply, walking up to a clock that was perched on the wall, pressing the middle of it like Soojung had done before. A new portal opened, and Jongin walked through, looking behind him to beckon Kyungsoo forward. 

He hesitated, worn sneakers stopping right at the edge of the portal. A lot of doubts surfaced in his mind, but Kyungsoo's decision was made when he smelled pizza. 

Jongin seemed to perk up at the smell too, offering his hand for Kyungsoo to take. They walk through this new town, one that Kyungsoo wasn't familiar with. It was more a city rather than a town, tall buildings towering over him forebodingly. Jongin brought him to a lowly lit pizza shop, the owner frozen over the dough he was kneading. 

In a flash, Jongin grabbed two slices from the display, smiling slightly at Kyungsoo as he passed a slice over. In this lighting, Jongin's gems only seemed to glimmer more, his body bursting in warm gold. Kyungsoo wondered if all gods of luck looked as majestic as Jongin did. 

"We're stealing," Kyungsoo stated simply, even as he bit into the cheesy goodness, almost moaning at how good it was. He might be biased, he was hungry after all, but the pizza was the best food he's had in a long time. 

"You can leave money if you want," Jongin said as he reached into his satchel for a handful of the golden dust, sprinkling it on the pizza shop owner. "I'll just pay him with extra luck."

In the dingy pizza kiosk, Kyungsoo finally took note of the baby blue turtleneck Jongin had on, aptly paired with a high-waisted pearl skirt with a slit at the side. Kyungsoo guessed that Gods didn't have gender boundaries like humans did. It was refreshing to see the ventures in fashion, even if it may not be exactly a new thing for Jongin himself.

Golden dust landed daintily on the old man's bald head, twinkling before it slowly faded, just like the ones in the florist's had. "You do this every night?"

Jongin seemed surprised at Kyungsoo's initiation of conversation, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yeah, I have to handle a few towns. And all I do is sprinkle these dust on people."

"What do you do in the morning then?"

"Some paperwork, making sure everyone got their daily sprinkle of luck." Jongin replied, laughing all of a sudden. "We sound like a cupcake factory."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Kyungsoo injected, finishing the last bite of his pizza. "I can't believe God is an organisation."

"I mean we still have the one big boss up above," Jongin offered, finishing his pizza too. "Ready to head back?"

Kyungsoo nodded, walking with Jongin to the huge statue of a person holding a torch of some sort. It looked at them briefly, although Kyungsoo couldn't even be sure it was looking at them or just at the ground. It was even bigger than Soojung, almost as tall as some of the buildings around them. 

They passed through the portals, Kyungsoo ending up at his town again. He turned to thank Jongin, but he had disappeared, and Soojung was just like she had been; a statue, face stoic as she held onto the huge clock proudly in her hands. Kyungsoo exhaled through his lips, taking note of the time, before walking back to the park. It was risky, but he was beyond tired to even care. He did take some precaution to sleep between some bushes, hidden from view.

Kyungsoo dreamt of golden hands, carding through his hair and guns being held to his temple, then of bullets that looked like the golden gems that trailed Jongin's temples.

 

 

 

 

 _Click. Tap. Click_.

Kyungsoo stared silently at the printer as it continued to produce more notices of his father's face. The weight on his heart was heavy, like lead had coated it, in turn making it weigh the organ down. 

"What are you thinking about?" Jongdae asked, a cup of coffee in his hand as he sidled up next to Kyungsoo. His job at the police station was usually an enjoyable one, but he couldn't help but let thoughts of his father, and Baekhyun from yesterday, consume him.

Fuck, Baekhyun knew where he was now. He considered running away from the town, but how far would Kyungsoo make it before another member of his father’s gang finds him?

“Kyungsoo?” The call of his name made him jump slightly, Jongdae looking at him worriedly. “You okay? Kinda lost you for a moment there,”

Kyungsoo forced out a chuckle, scratching his nose absentmindedly, “Yeah, I’m fine, just daydreaming.”

“Didn't sleep well last night?”

“You can say that again,” Kyungsoo scoffed, trying to adapt to the lighter mood. He failed once he looked back down to his father’s face.

“You can stay with me, you know,” Jongdae said, collecting the posters and arranging them neatly by his side. Kyungsoo switched the printer off, only shrugging as a reply.

“I’ll think about it.” And that was that. Jongdae knew he couldn't force a decision out of Kyungsoo. That Kyungsoo would come if he needed to, so he smiled and patted Kyungsoo’s back. 

“I'll be here whenever you need me.”

 

 

 

That night, Jongdae dragged Kyungsoo with him even though he protested. Their steps were slow as they walked by the shops that lined up along town. Nights in the town were usually quiet, the strong winds and closed shops enough to keep people in the comfort of their homes instead.

He ended up on Jongdae’s couch, a blanket wrapped around him like a warm burrito. It was only ten minutes away till midnight, and as Jongdae said his goodnights, Kyungsoo only smiled bleakly, pretending to be fatigued. Well, he _was_ tired, but not enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows. 

Closing his eyes, Kyungsoo kept up the pretence of sleeping soundly, waiting silently for 12 a.m. to come. His eyes remained closed for a long time, and Kyungsoo really started to feel consciousness slip away slowly, wanting to succumb to his dreams, but he remained adamant. 

The sound of a light tread came soon enough, and Kyungsoo opened his eyes just as Jongin seemed to be reaching into his satchel, probably to sprinkle the golden dust. Jongin jumped back slightly, almost falling onto the floor if Kyungsoo didn't grab his arm to help. 

“You're awake,” Jongin breathed, cheeks flushed as he quietly sprinkled some luck onto Kyungsoo. There was something about staring up at Jongin, at his jewelled temples, and his whole crazy golden being that made him feel a warmth rush up his spine. Kyungsoo bottled it up to him being dumb, only grinning instead.

He had drawn Jongin’s outfit from last time on one of his papers, and was pleasantly surprised to see him in a lilac fur coat, his tank top underneath in pastel pink, and looked pretty close to a bralette. His high waisted pants were a slightly darker pink than his top and it crescendoed down almost like a full skirt. Kyungsoo’s finger itched. 

“I was curious about whether you really did come to everyone’s home to sprinkle luck and shit.”

“It's not shit, one,” Jongin replied haughtily, raising a lone finger upward. Damn, even his finger had golden tips. “And two, are you doubting my work ethics?”

“I mean, you made me somehow immune to this whole time halt thing after all,” Kyungsoo said, chuckling when Jongin pouted.

“This is the first time anything like this has happened too. I don't know why…” Jongin muttered, his tone one that begged coddling. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, standing up just to pat Jongin’s head. 

“You'll find the solution,” Kyungsoo assured, not knowing why he felt the need to make sure Jongin stopped being sulky. Again, Kyungsoo was probably being dumb.

“I hope so.” Jongin whispered, dropping his head lower, as if encouraging Kyungsoo to continue patting his head. The action amused Kyungsoo. For a God, and a pretty handsome one at that, Jongin was nothing but a big baby. 

“Don't you have a job to do?” Kyungsoo questioned, amused when Jongin closed his eyes, leaning even more into Kyungsoo’s hands. “What would Soojung say?”

Jongin sighed, patting Kyungsoo’s head in turn. “Go to sleep then.”

“I will. Jongdae is in his room by the way.” Kyungsoo told him, pointing towards the only room in the house. Jongin nodded, waving at Kyungsoo, a small goodbye. Who knew when Kyungsoo would see the god next?

“Goodnight then, Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispered, touch light as he ran his fingers through his hair, looking conflicted for some reason. “I'll see you again with an update next time.”

Kyungsoo grinned, wrapping himself in the blanket again. “I hope so.”

 

 

 

Sehun hummed a low tune as he circled the mannequin, fixing some random odds and pieces of the dress, constantly asking Kyungsoo if it looked fine or not. Kyungsoo was no expert, so he nodded most times, lips slightly agape as he admired Sehun at work. 

It still felt like a dream to see a designer at work. Sehun may come from a small town, but Kyungsoo knew his work was going around. They didn't call Sehun the town’s pride for no reason. 

He finally stepped away from the mannequin then, admiring the dress in silence, lowering the sleeves of his navy satin shirt. It was probably a habit of his to fold the sleeves while he worked. Kyungsoo liked noticing these small details about Sehun’s work. 

“What do you think, Kyungsoo?” Sehun voiced, looking back at him standing at the cashier counter. Kyungsoo stepped closer, fidgeting with the ends of the sweater Sehun gave him. The dress flowed easily, the pearl beads that trailed across the side of the skirt only a small contrast against the white dress. It matched well with the elaborate sleeves that flared as it went down. Kyungsoo thought it was beautiful, and he told Sehun so.

Sehun grinned, fixing the skirt slightly just as the bell of the shop jingled, signalling a customer. Kyungsoo turned immediately, friendly smile etched on his lips, only for it to fall when he saw who the customer was. 

A scar across the right eye, eyes that met Kyungsoo’s determinedly, hair tied at the back in a bun. He wanted to run, but Sehun was watching him, confused why Kyungsoo wasn't moving towards the customer at all. He gulped, walking slowly towards Baekhyun, eyes levelled as he faked a smile. “How may I help you, Sir?”

“I'm looking for a shirt to go with my snakeskin clutch,” Baekhyun said, still holding Kyungsoo’s gaze even when he averted them to snort. 

“Was that a jab at my betrayal?”

“What do you think?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, fixing a million-watt smile again when Sehun turned his way to them. “Please wait a while, Sir, I have just the thing for you.”

Kyungsoo walked to the back, taking a plain deep green shirt from the rack, presenting it to Baekhyun. His smile was still intact even if it felt like it may fall at anytime. Baekhyun tried it on, looking at Kyungsoo’s reflection in the mirror as he hovered behind Baekhyun. “I don't know who you're fooling, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo didn't say anything, fixing the sleeves for Baekhyun and smiling. “This suits you well.”

“Kyungsoo.” Something about Baekhyun’s tone made him look up, jaw tensing at the glare Baekhyun sent his way. “You can't run forever.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m merely saying the truth. Your father has connections all over.” Baekhyun unbuttoned the shirt, passing it to Kyungsoo. “It would only be a matter of time before you get caught, and sent back to him. I don't even know what he'll do to you once you come back.”

Kyungsoo folded the shirt neatly, shoulders hunched as he stared at the green of the shirt, choosing to avoid Baekhyun’s eyes till he has taken a few deep breaths. “So...may I ring this shirt up or would you like to look at the other shirts in our collection? I’m sure one would suit your taste, or even your father’s.”

“You never listen,” Baekhyun sighed, eyes heavy on the way Kyungsoo held the shirt tightly, knuckles whitening. Baekhyun understood his fear, Kyungsoo knew it, but he didn't say anything more, “Please just ring that one up.”

 

 

 

When they were younger, Kyungsoo would play with cotton, with polyester, with silk. He'd dress himself up like he saw people did in the magazines lying around the mansion, trying his best to nail whatever high fashion item they bore. 

Baekhyun came in to join at a later time. He was eager, offering his support and happy squeals at being dressed up. They were both kids, barely even ten yet, when Kyungsoo wrapped an embroidered scarf around Baekhyun’s neck. He perched some Fendi sunglasses on Baekhyun’s nose, grinning at how ridiculously amazing Baekhyun looked (or at least his ten year old self thought so.)

It wasn't the first time they played with clothes, and it wasn't the first time Kyungsoo forgot completely about his father. His father was the least of his worries when the only thing he could focus on was the warmth at the bottom of his belly and the infectious delight that stayed on Baekhyun’s face; an expression that was rare on Baekhyun, especially after his mother died. 

That day, they were both careless. 

It was Baekhyun who stopped laughing first, his gaze focused upwards, the wide grin immediately diminishing. Kyungsoo only wondered why for a second, before he heard the low inhales, one that signalled anger. 

His father was like a provoked fire-breathing dragon, looking down at them with disdain clear in his eyes. He slapped Baekhyun first, the sunglasses slipping off Baekhyun’s face slightly at the impact. Kyungsoo was quick to stand in front of him, angling his body to feebly protect Baekhyun. “Dad, it's not Baekhyun’s fault! It's all mine so please don't hurt him!”

Even at a young age, Kyungsoo hated seeing people being hurt around him. It was unfortunate he had to be born a son to the most powerful gangster at the time.

“I know it's not Baekhyun’s fault, Kyungsoo,” His father sneered. Kyungsoo recoiled at the sight, heart dropping. “But you will never learn if I were to punish you alone.”

His father was a psychopath. It was what all the kids at school whispered about behind his back, what all his teachers had etched in their mind as they looked at him in fear, and what the servants in the mansion think when they hear screams from Kyungsoo’s room. It was always, _always_ Baekhyun’s screams. Baekhyun was like a scapegoat that hung between Kyungsoo and his father. Blackmail material. Treated pretty well, but never well enough. 

At the third slap, Kyungsoo rushed in front of Baekhyun again, heartbroken at the sounds of his whimpering. “Stop it, Dad.”

He nudged Baekhyun to leave, and his father watched silently, vein throbbing at the side of his face. “You care too much Kyungsoo. How are you going to run after me if you're this considerate?”

“Maybe I don't want to.”

It was the first slap he had received in a long while, the sound and sting clear as day. Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, willing the tears to be kept at bay. His father shook his head, sighing as he rubbed his hand against the front of his shirt. “You will, if you don't want Baekhyun hurt.”

It was dirty; this game his father played, but Kyungsoo was powerless to stop him. So he reckoned obeying was the way to be, at least till he reached a certain age. 

Baekhyun scurried back in once his father had left, holding a pack of ice in his hand, carefully pressing it against Kyungsoo’s cheek. Kyungsoo tried to grin, hating the way Baekhyun seemed so downcast. “Guess we can't play dress up anymore, huh?”

A weak chuckle left Baekhyun’s lips, but neither said anything after. Both were too deep in their thoughts. Kyungsoo’s mind filled with the attitude he had to put up so that Baekhyun wouldn't have to face any more punishments, and how sacrificing his hobby was a mere setback. 

For Baekhyun, Kyungsoo would stop anything. He didn't call him a brother for nothing.

 

 

 

It was late when Kyungsoo finally left the shop. Sehun had needed help with a new line he was planning to make, and Kyungsoo stayed for the hell of it. It didn't hurt that he learnt so much just from Sehun outlining the clothes and the fabrics he took special care of considering. 

Baekhyun was waiting for him outside, perched on the fire hydrant with his arms crossed. It was too late for Kyungsoo to turn the other way and run. Baekhyun had already spotted him. 

“Kyungsoo.” He greeted, expressionless and daunting. Kyungsoo wondered where the Baekhyun he knew five years ago had gone. “You _have_ to come back home with me.”

“I've already told you this. I will never go back there. You can run the whole syndicate with Dad instead, I don't care.”

“He would not let me run it, you know that,” Baekhyun bit out, eyebrows scrunched. “How could you be so selfish?”

“ _I’m_ being selfish? I’m doing this to protect my own self from a life I would never be ready for,” Kyungsoo angrily defended, pointing a finger right at Baekhyun’s chest. “You've always been the one to assassinate people well, you run the deals smoothly, and you kill without thought that Dad went from hating you to appreciating you. You're perfect for it, so leave _me_ the fuck out of it.”

Baekhyun sighed, falling into step with Kyungsoo when he walked away. “So...what? This was the life you dreamt of? Living in fear of being caught and sleeping on park benches like a peasant?”

“I _am_ a peasant.”

“This is what you ran away for? To be a peasant?” Baekhyun scoffed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. A feeling Kyungsoo felt as well at the moment. 

“Being a peasant is far better than being a killer,” Kyungsoo muttered lowly, stopping right before Jongdae’s house. He didn't feel safe sleeping on the park bench tonight. 

“Sleeping with the policeman again?” Baekhyun offhandedly questioned, glancing at the house behind them. “Does he promise you enough safety from us? You know what one shot of a gun could do to him. You know we have our ways, Kyungsoo.”

He stiffened, glaring at Baekhyun to cover the fear that was permeating his being. He couldn't sleep at Jongdae’s then. Not if it would risk the man’s life. Kyungsoo walked away from the house, ignoring Baekhyun following behind him. 

“Come back home with me Kyungsoo, come on. The people that we’ve killed barely even matter anyway.”

Kyungsoo turned to face Baekhyun, anger evident in the furrow of his brows and how tightly clenched his fists were. “Do you hear yourself when you speak? What the fuck even happened to you in five years? Was your humanity that easy to be sold in return of money?”

Baekhyun kept his neutral expression still, almost unimpressed. Kyungsoo wanted to cry. Baekhyun had changed so much. “You forget about humanity when this is your life, Kyungsoo. Life isn't that worth living anyway, I was doing them a few favours.”

“And you get to decide that, don't you? You suddenly get to play God?”

“Of course I do,” Baekhyun replied, slipping his hand under his blazer, bringing out a gun. One that pointed towards Kyungsoo’s forehead. “Just like I do now. Come back home with me Kyungsoo, I won't ask again.”

“Fucking get over it and kill me then, because I won't go with you. Ever.”

Baekhyun’s hold on the trigger tightened, pressing the nozzle onto Kyungsoo’s forehead almost harshly. No goodbyes, no words of apology. Baekhyun looked almost frenzied, in fact. His brother was gone. Whoever stood in front of him was just a puppet of his father, Kyungsoo thought regretfully, closing his eyes and getting ready for the impact.

Except it never happened. A hand tugged on his instead, dragging him away. Kyungsoo opened his eyes to see golden fingers wrapped around his wrist. _Jongin_.

“What the hell was that all about?”

Kyungsoo grinned when he saw the huge clock Soojung held, showing midnight. He shrugged. “Long story.”

“Glad I have all night then,” Jongin said, eyeing Kyungsoo worriedly before he nudged Soojung to open the portal. 

Kyungsoo didn't really know where Jongin was bringing him to. There was something about the whole G.O.D organization thing that still amused Kyungsoo. Jongin was barely harmful or threatening. 

Besides, his thoughts were too plagued with Baekhyun. How ready he had been to shoot Kyungsoo, as if they weren't brothers, as if that meant nothing anymore to him. 

“You okay?” Jongin asked as they entered the in-between.

“No,” Kyungsoo mumbled, grateful when Jongin didn't push further for answers. They went through the in-between, Jongin pressing on a random clock to open a portal. Kyungsoo let himself be dragged, too tired to protest or even pay attention to his surroundings.

They walked through a forest of some sort, and that was all Kyungsoo was aware of. After the moving through thick trees and avoiding low branches, they finally ended up at a huge field, one where only lush green grass laid beyond them. Kyungsoo gasped at the sight; the stars that twinkled in the sky like silver sequins over a navy evening dress. 

Jongin himself was in a champagne shirt that ran loose tucked into same-coloured shorts that ended a little bit above his knees. A plaid coat hung on his shoulders almost like a drape. Kyungsoo loved his outfit, trying to remember every inch, every detail, of it, hoping he'd be able to project it into his drawings later. Jongin beckoned for him to sit down with him on the grass, both of them staying quiet for the better part of an hour. Kyungsoo sighed, already feeling his heart fall slightly at ease. Looking at Jongin, he found himself in awe again. The golden gems by the side of his face were truly breathtaking, and his nose that complemented his features- along with those lips of his. Kyungsoo let out a sigh. Whether it was because of Jongin’s beauty or the earlier events, Kyungsoo couldn't be sure.

“You don't have to tell me what exactly happened, but I'm here to listen if you want to tell me.” Jongin said finally, nervously glancing at Kyungsoo. He was earnest and genuine, Kyungsoo could tell. And to hell with it, Jongin was a God, what was the worst of telling him about this anyway?

So Kyungsoo took a deep breath, laid his head on Jongin’s shoulder, ignoring how it immediately stiffened. “My dad’s a gangster and I ran away a few years back when my brother was finally gaining some combat skills and such. It's been five years and I guess my luck is running out,” Kyungsoo chuckled at the irony, looking up at Jongin with temporary amusement. He was way prettier when he was this close. His eyes sparkled like the stars above, or even something better. Something way more beautiful.

“Your luck isn't running out,” Jongin replied quietly, looking away after their gaze seemed to last too long, a blush immediately decorating his cheek, the pink so pretty when paired with Jongin’s general golden hue. “It's just fate at work.”

“I'm not saying it's your fault, Jongin,” Kyungsoo laughed, lifting his head away from Jongin’s shoulders. “Don't get too defensive.”

“I'm not.” Jongin pouted, crossing his arms before the facade broke off when Kyungsoo laughed. His eyes crinkled as he smiled along with Kyungsoo, eyes fond, for some reason. 

Kyungsoo felt better again, the stars that accompanied them a calming background to his inner turmoil. A rapid fire may be growing, but it had tamed upon coming here. 

“Thank you, Jongin,” He whispered, the sound brought by the winds. Jongin perked, eyebrow raised in question. “For bringing me here.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Jongin said, shrugging his shoulders. “I come here myself sometimes. Life as a God can be stressful too.”

Kyungsoo beamed, hugging Jongin tightly. It was more impulse than anything, but when Jongin finally hugged him back, it hit him by tenfolds, how amazing it felt to be in Jongin’s embrace. It felt better than he imagined, felt better than it actually should. It was weird, but Kyungsoo didn't necessarily hate it. In fact, he may just love it instead.

 

 

 

The bell jingled, bringing with it an uninvited guest yet again. Kyungsoo stared at Baekhyun as he entered, hair still wet from a shower, he presumed. His shirt was rumpled, and he was in a pair of pyjama pants. Sehun quietly snorted beside Kyungsoo upon seeing him, turning back to his mannequin again.

Kyungsoo approached him, feigning calmness, but immediately turned hostile when he was near. “If you're planning to kill me here, then save it and do it later. Don't involve other people in our mess.”

“I'm not here to kill you,” Baekhyun murmured, sighing tiredly. “I'm here to explain that I was just hoping the threat of death may make you come back. I really need you back with Dad, okay?”

He punched him, anger suddenly a burst of red. Satisfaction bloomed when he did hit Baekhyun’s cheek at least. Kyungsoo’s combat skills had always paled in comparison to Baekhyun’s. 

“What the fuck?”

“What?” Kyungsoo raised a brow, ready to push Baekhyun off him should he come closer. Sehun held him by the shoulder and Baekhyun by the arm right at that moment, dragging them towards the door and pushing them out of the shop. 

“Deal with this, _then_ come back Kyungsoo,” Sehun sighed, turning to head back into the shop when all Baekhyun and Kyungsoo did was gape at him.

Outside, his nerves were slightly more untangled, the frays loosening and he was able to calm down some. Guilt surged at the sight of Baekhyun holding his cheek tenderly. He had received worse blows, and he may have also had a gun cocked right on Kyungsoo’s forehead, but Kyungsoo still felt a twinge of remorse. He still owed Kyungsoo an apology though. 

“Your cheek okay?”

“Yeah, your punch isn't the strongest,” Baekhyun shrugged, still holding his cheek carefully. “I'm more betrayed that you actually punched me.”

“You threatened to shoot me.”

“Fair enough,” Baekhyun lifted his hands in the air, as if to say ‘ _let's just move on_ ’, “So Dad…”

“I'm _not_ going back, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo said, crossing his arms as he glared at nothing in particular. “You may be comfortable sleeping after shooting twenty men, but I'm just not.”

“I get it,” Baekhyun’s shoulders deflate, scratching his nose. Kyungsoo wondered if he really did. They stared at each other, lips downcast. Baekhyun sighed. “I'm sorry for what I did yesterday, I was desperate and you know how Dad is.”

“You should run away with me.”

Bakehyun laughed, shaking his head, “That's impossible, but for your sake, I'll try to distract him into a different location instead.”

Kyungsoo lifted his head, eyes glimmering with hope. Baekhyun smiled minutely. “I know you love this town, Soo.”

The nickname brought feelings of nostalgia, and this caring personality was more what he associated Baekhyun with anyway. Kyungsoo beamed, squeezing Baekhyun’s arms once. He would reach in for a hug, but there was still some tension left between them. One that will leave soon enough, he hoped. “Thank you.”

Baekhyun waved it away, looking back into the shop, where Sehun was watching them curiously. “Think you need to get back to work. Your boss might get annoyed soon if you don't.”

Kyungsoo glanced at Sehun, saying his goodbyes. “I'll see you soon, I guess?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun said, “You're not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Unfortunately,” Kyungsoo groaned good-naturedly, wincing when Baekhyun punched him lightly on the chest.

“No need to be an ass.”

“Would I really be your brother if I'm not an ass?” Kyungsoo questioned, and Baekhyun smiled at him, almost endearingly. Kyungsoo returned the notion with his own fond grin.

“No, Soo, I guess you wouldn't be.”

 

 

 

Night came in no time at all, and as much as Kyungsoo hated asking for help from Sehun, sleeping on a park bench when he knew his father’s men were around town seemed more a death wish than anything else. So he begrudgingly asked Sehun if he could sleep in the shop. 

“It might get cold though,” Sehun replied, scrutinizing Kyungsoo carefully. “You sure about this?”

“Yeah I mean I've been sleeping on the park bench anyway, the cold isn't anything new.”

Sehun laughed, which surprised Kyungsoo. Usually that normal pitying look would appear then, but Sehun just shook his head, “Sorry, was that inappropriate?”

“I mean...maybe?” Kyungsoo asked, “it's better than pity though.”

Sehun smiled, mirth still in his eyes as he told Kyungsoo to knock himself out in the shop. With an exchange of good night’s, he was gone. 

Kyungsoo cracked his knuckles, taking advantage of the fact that he was in a fashion boutique for inspiration. The papers were out and his pencil scribbled frantically over the paper, thought of the tweed suit an old woman had been wearing mind as he drew out the basic shape of one. 

He was so deep into the design, referring to the suit Sehun had in his shop and the rolls of fabric he kept in the back room, that he didn't hear the sound of footsteps, a figure looming behind him and casting a shadow over the table. 

“Wow, those are amazing.” The gush finally made Kyungsoo look up, his eyes meeting Jongin’s own in shock. He scrambled to cover his drawings, red staining his cheeks almost immediately. 

Jongin sat beside him on the work bench, looking at him curiously. “So...fashion, huh?”

Kyungsoo sighed, giving up on trying to hide his drawings. Jongin had already seen them anyway. “Yeah, I'm just interested in it though.”

“Interests can bring you somewhere,” Jongin said simply, gesturing to the papers as he looked at Kyungsoo. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah sure,” Kyungsoo handed the papers, shyly looking on as Jongin skimmed paper after paper, a soft smile on the edge of his lips. Kyungsoo would have said no, but he was pretty sure none of the Jongin papers had been in the mix that he gave Jongin, so he wasn't that worried.

“You really have a talent for this Kyungsoo. I bet if I showed this to Soojung, she'd agree too.”

“You're just saying that,” He modestly brushed the praises off, the warmth in his cheeks still not fading away. 

“I'm not,” Jongin insisted, “You should show this to your boss, he'd be amazed.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Kyungsoo said, taking the papers away to keep in his satchel, almost shoving them all the way in. Embarrassment still stayed at the edge of his fingers, making him curl them silently. 

Jongin looked on sadly, “Why not?”

“Not confident enough.” Kyungsoo said simply, sighing into his arms. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, did you have a dream other than being the God of Luck?”

Jongin blinked, stopping to think. “I've never really thought about it to be honest. Us gods get classified into what sectors suit us the most, and being the god of luck is all I’ve ever known.”

“Don't you have hobbies you do in your free time though? Anything you think would have been a career too?” Kyungsoo asked. Throwing the attention towards Jongin instead has made his embarrassment disappear slightly, and he calmed down slightly in his seat.

“I- not really.” Jongin said, scratching the back of his neck. “I'm a pretty boring person.”

“Don't say that,” Kyungsoo reprimanded, looking at Jongin thoughtfully. He had that pout on his face again, the light making his skin appear more golden than it usually does. Kyungsoo found him breathtaking, and completely adorable.

“I have an idea,” Kyungsoo voiced, taking out some empty papers from his satchel and passing one to Jongin. “Ever tried drawing?”

“Not really?”

“Well, now’s your chance I guess,” Kyungsoo said, smiling at Jongin’s confused stare. “Just draw anything that comes to mind. It can be a random scribble or anything- it doesn't matter. Everyone starts somewhere.”

Jongin blinked, before he lifted the pencil Kyungsoo passed to him, tracing out a human figure. Kyungsoo wanted to watch but Jongin hid the paper with his arm, glaring every time Kyungsoo merely glanced. “Don't look!” he whined quietly, to which Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. 

Even so, secretly, Kyungsoo was pretty glad. It gave him time to stare at Jongin’s side profile as much as he liked, admiring the way his jawline seemed to cut off in a straight line, and how his cheeks glowed even in this low light. It was some sort of miracle probably, or maybe just a deity thing, that Jongin was this beautiful. 

The warmth was back, and with that a squeeze of his heart. Nothing painful, just something that made his fingers buzz. All he wanted to do was touch Jongin for some reason. 

So that was what he did, hand carefully on Jongin’s temples, fingers trailing over the bumps of the gems. Jongin’s hands stopped moving over the paper. His gaze was focused on Kyungsoo instead now, lips parted as if he had something to say, but nothing came out. 

“You're very beautiful, you know?”

Jongin smiled, and suddenly his whole face lit up. Way brighter than the golden glow he had around him, way brighter than the golden gems on his face, and glimmering better than his golden dust. Kyungsoo was slightly dazed. How could someone be this beautiful?

“You're very handsome yourself,” Jongin replied shyly, tucking a strand of stray hair behind his ear, his eyes focused on Kyungsoo the whole way. Kyungsoo felt his face going closer to Jongin’s, saw how Jongin was looking at him, almost confused, before understanding what exactly was happening. He heard Jongin’s breath hitched when their noses bumped. Their lips were so close. Fuck, Kyungsoo really wanted to-

He laid his forehead on Jongin’s chest, exhaling at the close call. A sigh left Jongin’s lips as well- of disappointment? Of relief? Kyungsoo may never know. There was a weight on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, one that spelled disappointment out for him in clear and huge fonts, perhaps even underlined and bolded. 

Jongin rustled around for his satchel, sprinkling the golden dust on him again, hand resting on Kyungsoo’s head after, patting lightly. That, accompanied with the hums that gravitated Jongin’s chest, was enough to lull Kyungsoo to sleep. 

He sighed, burying his face deeper into Jongin’s chest. “Goodnight, Jongin.”

“Goodnight to you too, Kyungsoo.”

 

 

 

Consciousness came when Sehun unlocked the shop’s door, greeting Kyungsoo with breakfast and a cup of coffee. Kyungsoo accepted it graciously, sharing the chocolate croissant with Sehun, before going to wash up. 

When he came back, Sehun had a paper in his hand, the one where Jongin had attempted to draw a sleeping Kyungsoo on. Sehun chuckled, “What were you even doing at the shop last night?”

“Couldn't sleep so I just started doodling.”

Sehun shook his head, taking a sip from his own coffee, “By the way, I’m going away to Paris next week for fashion week.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo slumped in disappointment, “Will the shop be closed then?”

He had to look for a temporary job somewhere else if so, and after working with Sehun, he wasn't sure he wanted to look anywhere else. 

“No, I was hoping you can take care of it while I was away?”

Kyungsoo gaped, eyes widening at Sehun, “You're kidding.”

“Nope,” Sehun replied, smirk laced with amusement. “So, what do you say?”

“Of course I'd do it!” Kyungsoo exclaimed, clearing his throat when he sounded too excitable. “Sorry about that, but yes, I would absolutely love to.”

“Then the shop will be yours next week,” Sehun mused, still smiling even as he set off to work on the new pants he's planning to release for next season. Kyungsoo’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much that day, but he couldn't help himself. Maybe hanging out with the god of luck had it's perks after all.

 

 

Kyungsoo started sleeping at the shop, and learned sewing little by little from Sehun. Just in case, Sehun had said, and Kyungsoo had agreed readily. He had always wanted to learn anyway. It wouldn't hurt at all. 

At nights, Jongin would visit while Kyungsoo was trying his best to not get pricked by the needle, regaling tales of his world and such while Kyungsoo practiced sewing a pouch of some sort. It was just something to train him, Sehun had said. 

Kyungsoo too, shared his own stories, mostly ones about Baekhyun and him, or the four years before he had ever met Jongin. They became even closer, and with this new connection they have, it became even harder for Kyungsoo to ignore how gorgeous Jongin was exactly. Every expression he made had barely any flaws. It made Kyungsoo’s heart stop, the warmth coming back again, wrapping around him like a good blanket. 

It was so easy what this relationship was coming to exactly. Neither voiced it aloud, but yet they both knew, if the longing gazes weren't indication enough. 

Kyungsoo was fucked. Falling in love was horrible enough, but falling for a God? Man, that was just _way_ out of his league. Kyungsoo sighed, focusing back on the pouch he was sewing, being extra careful to make it line up straightly. No time for distraction at a time like this. 

“You look cute when you're this focused,” Jongin mused, and when Kyungsoo glared at him, he was only met with a loving gaze, and a cheeky grin. How could he even resist that?

“Shut up, you're distracting me.”

“You are too, with your cuteness.” Jongin continued, laughing when Kyungsoo sent him a burning look. “You're too adorable.”

Kyungsoo sighed, leaning into Jongin’s shoulder and putting the pouch-in-the-making down on the table. Jongin was so warm, it radiated off to Kyungsoo as well. His laugh sounded rich and gave Kyungsoo thrums of joy too, so that definitely didn't help Kyungsoo’s case. 

Okay, so maybe he would accept one form of distraction, but could anyone blame him when that form shaped a Kim Jongin? 

“Say, Jongin?”

“Hm?”

“What does your world look like?” 

Jongin straightened in his seat, eyeing Kyungsoo curiously. “That's a random question,”

“I just...I want to know if it's as beautiful and a Utopian dream as I imagine it,” Kyungsoo murmured, looking up at Jongin, eagerly listening.

“Well, almost everything was made out of marble,” Jongin began, the look on his face slowly softening into a fondness Kyungsoo had never seen on his face before. It made him melt, feeling warm all over. The look on Jongin’s face only made him fall even more.

Kyungsoo sighed as he closed his eyes. Jongin’s arms were strangely comforting, and he smelled like vanilla. The night draft was cooling, the candle flame flickering, almost like it was performing a dance. 

“...and my house was a more salmon-pink marble- sorry am I boring you?” Jongin trailed off. Kyungsoo shook his head, yet a yawn left his lips came right at that time. 

“Sorry, I guess I'm tired.”

“No, it’s totally understandable.” Jongin said, patting Kyungsoo’s head softly, encouraging the sleep. “You can rest, I don't mind.”

Kyungsoo couldn't fight the sleep that came, so he admitted defeat. Plus, Jongin was just so warm and comfortable against him. He snuggled closer, sighing in content when Jongin’s arm wrapped around him in return. 

A night filled with good dreams was scheduled, Kyungsoo guessed, revelling in the touch Jongin offered.

 

 

 

 

 

On the night Sehun left for Paris, Baekhyun came bounding to the shop with sandwiches and cakes. They spent hours just catching up. Not as Kyungsoo the runaway and Baekhyun the Do’s new puppet, but rather, as brothers. It felt like ages since the last time they talked like this. In fact, it _had_ been ages.

“I'm guessing you're still into fashion,” Baekhyun quipped as he bit through his club sandwich, looking at the pouches that lay in a small mountain at the side of the work table.

Kyungsoo laughed, “Yeah, Sehun left some books about sewing so I can try it out myself too. He's been amazing.”

“I'm glad,” Baekhyun softly said, eyes oozing with care and warmth. Kyungsoo could only return the fond smile. “I've always wished you could get what you want.”

“What about you?” Kyungsoo asked, “Have you found anything you're interested in?”

Baekhyun nibbled on his lower lip, staring at the surface of the table thoughtfully. “I have...it's singing, but I'm not any good at it.”

“I'm sure you're great,” Kyungsoo frowned, taking Baekhyun’s hand. He was sure it was his father who sprouted this insecurity in Baekhyun. “Come on, let me hear it.”

Baekhyun looked hesitant, but after taking a few deep breaths he looked up again, eyes shining as he sang with a quiet tone. It started low, but slowly picked up in tune, and the smile on Baekhyun’s face when he sang- Kyungsoo had never seen him look this happy. 

“Did Dad tell you your singing was horrible?” Kyungsoo asked after Baekhyun was done singing, shy smile perked when Kyungsoo applauded him. Maybe too excessively.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Well, you should know by now that Dad is an asshole _and_ a liar,” Kyungsoo scoffed, “Your voice is beautiful, Baekhyun.”

“Thank you,” Baekhyun warmly noted, his smile as bright as the moon shining outside. His voice carried through the night, travelling into his dreams, and still remembered even the next day, when Kyungsoo woke up to Baekhyun sleeping peacefully beside him. 

He never wanted harm to come Baekhyun’s way, but maybe when he left, it had provoked exactly that. Kyungsoo couldn't help the regret that pitted in his stomach slightly at that.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo came to look forward to nights where Jongin would watch him sew, sometimes bothering him about walking around town with him. It made him feel something that he could slowly and hesitantly admit was adoration. 

He liked Jongin, and denying it was only making a headache form rather than suppress the emotions, because his heart still beat faster at a glance. His hands craved Jongin’s naturally and recently he had found an immense interest in how pouty Jongin's lips were. 

“You know, I sometimes draw you,” Kyungsoo murmured one night as they hunched over the tunic Kyungsoo was sewing. Jongin blinked, before reaching for Kyungsoo’s satchel and rummaging around for the papers he knew Kyungsoo kept in there.

In a little pouch that Kyungsoo had sewn himself, folded papers unravelled to be the drawings of Jongin in his clothes. He gasped, gazing at Kyungsoo with eyes so fond, it was a wonder how Kyungsoo was still looking back at him without combusting. 

“I love this,” Jongin whispered, caressing the side of Kyungsoo’s face like it was as luxurious as silk, “And I really like you.”

His heart stopped, and even Jongin gaped, as if shocked by his own confession. Unplanned. Kyungsoo held onto Jongin’s hand before it could pull away from his face. He needed to know. “Do you mean that?”

Jongin looked so afraid, so scared, but still earnest, “Of course I do.”

Kyungsoo’s kiss was all the reassurance he needed. They didn't kiss for long, Kyungsoo’s shyness suddenly creeping up and making him hide his face in Jongin’s emerald suede jacket, but the happiness still bubbled both their surfaces. 

For now, he was happy. And Jongin was too.

 

 

“ _Kim Jongin, Mrs Qian is ready to see you now._ ” The voice carried through the speakers clearly, sounding as if the clerk had said it directly to Jongin instead of announcing it. Marble floors and marble walls with golden detailings were the first thing Jongin absorbed about the office. 

The second being the actual Goddess herself, sitting on a high chair made of velvet, upholstered and such. Her fingers tapped on the glass table, eyes watching Jongin’s every move. It was almost unnerving.

“Kim Jongin, you've caused the trouble, haven't you?” She said in lieu of greeting, eyebrows dipped. It wasn't exactly a frown, but it was definitely something. Jongin gulped.

“I didn't mean to-”

Mrs Qian sighed, passing a vial filled with red potion towards Jongin, “Just get him to drink that. It should fix whatever problem it is.”

“He won't die, will he?”

Mrs Qian shook her head, “No side-effects at all.”

“What would happen if he doesn't drink this?” Jongin asked, heart beating because as much as he wanted to give Kyungsoo the potion, he had started to like the human a lot. 

“Every day that you delay, the lesser life he has.”

Jongin’s eyes widened, “Wait, what?”

“He loses a day of his life the longer he stays above our magic, so I suggest the quicker the better.”

Jongin felt blood drain from his face, staring at the potion in his hand. His legs were wobbly as he stood, leaving the office still feeling like he had been shaken to the core. He had to give this to Kyungsoo as soon as possible. 

 

 

 

Drawing had always been an outlet. Kyungsoo found himself doing it whenever empty time filled the shop. He was making a model wear an embroidered tunic right when Baekhyun barged in the shop, eyes frenzied and hands frantic.

“You have to leave now,” He said in a rush, grabbing Kyungsoo’s hand and making him drop the paper he had been working on. “ _He's_ coming, Soo.”

His blood drained, legs shaky as he got up. Baekhyun immediately grabbed his wrist, tugging him to the door. Kyungsoo barely had time to grab his cape before leaving. The sky was dark as Kyungsoo and Baekhyun ran for the park. He knew Baekhyun was going to pull him to the next town, and Kyungsoo felt his heart fall. Even though he knew he needed to leave to be safe, it still felt like sand in his throat to even run away again. 

Jongdae walked by them as they continued to run, and Kyungsoo really wished he could stop and say goodbye. Maybe tell Jongdae how much he appreciated his help in getting Kyungsoo the odd jobs before Sehun. 

The park was quiet, the only sounds being their own feet as they padded through with more urgency now. The exit of the town was so near, Kyungsoo could practically taste the sweet relief of escape.

Except for figure that had jumped out from behind the trees, grabbing Kyungsoo’s arm and pulling him from Baekhyun. The shout of despair echoed into the night sky, the familiar sound of his father’s _tsk tsk tsk_ sending a run of chilling trepidation down his spine. 

His father looked older, hair graying at the sides. His half-framed glasses rested on his blazer pocket, gun in hand as he calmly approached Baekhyun. “I should have known better than to have trusted you.”

The tone, the voice- it all felt so familiar to Kyungsoo, and he knew a punch or something was only coming. He was right. Baekhyun was hit with a punch by the jaw before Kyungsoo became the center of his father’s attention. 

Struggling against the men who were holding him tightly was fruitless, and he accepted the kick to his stomach, choking on his saliva at the suddenness of the pain. His father had a scowl on his face, one that made him look like the monster he was, “And _you_. Did you really think you could have escaped? You're as gullible as they come, I hate having to even call you my son.”

“As I you, Father.”

A punch to his cheek, pain blossoming like roses, red and furling. Kyungsoo spat the blood in his mouth, glaring up at his father as he sagged against the hold the men had on him. Baekhyun was trying to stop his father, Kyungsoo could hear. 

“Your behaviour deserves a punishment. You're to come back to work as one of my men,” his father said, holding Kyungsoo’s hair in his fist, and pulling.

“Like hell I am.” 

The gun raised towards Baekhyun, cocked right at his forehead. Kyungsoo’s face paled, a small whimper leaving his lips at Baekhyun’s shut eyes, clearly afraid. His father tilted his head, finger hovering the trigger, “You were saying?”

“Nothing. I said nothing, don't kill Baekhyun, _please_.”

“Nothing is not what I want to hear, Kyungsoo,” the gun pressed into Baekhyun’s skin. Kyungsoo felt anger, blinding and hateful. What kind of fate was this? He was like a dog for his father. Continuously manipulated, forever played with- it was like he was barely human. Just a spawn on his father’s chess board.

“I'll come back and I’ll work for you,” Kyungsoo resolved, defeated. Baekhyun shook his head at him, but it was too late. “So _please_ don't kill Baekhyun.”

“Good,” his father stepped away, lowering the gun but then raising it towards Kyungsoo again. He held it right at Kyungsoo’s shoulder. The shot was clear and loud; as was Baekhyun’s scream, as was the pain, as was the next shot. 

Kyungsoo braced himself for even more pain, one even more searing and almost numbing, but it never came. When the pain wasn't deafening, Kyungsoo opened his eyes to see his father doubling over in pain, hand bloodied and gun a few feet away.

“ _Police! Drop all your weapons!_ ” Kyungsoo turned to see Jongdae with his own team, at least a dozen of them. Luckily, his father didn't bring more than five people, and they knew better than to fight, immediately releasing Kyungsoo and Baekhyun to surrender. 

Jongdae nodded at him, before walking towards the men, stopping midstep. In fact, everyone stopped, frozen in time. Kyungsoo blinked as golden dust appeared beside him. _Jongin_.

“Tough night?” 

“Like you wouldn't believe,” Kyungsoo retorted, watching as Jongin handcuffed all the men for Jongdae, including his father who had tried to sneakily grab the gun. When he was done, he turned to Kyungsoo with a beam, so devilishly handsome. It made Kyungsoo’s heart thunder, and he felt so grateful. 

He let himself be dragged yet again, to the clock, Soojung eyeing him with pity. Kyungsoo quickly looked away.

The open field was the destination, stars like a dusting of sprinkles on ice cream. Kyungsoo sighed loudly, resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder, thankful for the short reprieve. The others were probably worried but Kyungsoo needed this. 

“Care for a piece of chocolate?” Jongin asked, offering him the candy he had in his hand, other arm tucked around Kyungsoo’s waist. Other than the chocolate, Kyungsoo really wanted to kiss Jongin again. Just like last time. 

His golden cheeks glowed even brighter, and Kyungsoo revelled in that, admiring every single detail about Jongin. It was the closest he had ever come to love. And that thought alone made Kyungsoo reject the chocolate bar, leaning in for something far better.

Their kiss tasted like the chocolate anyway. Jongin’s lips had traces of it, and Kyungsoo closed his eyes, smiling against Jongin’s lips, relishing in the sigh Jongin gave when they parted ways. Tucking even closer to Jongin, Kyungsoo let his hands wander down, lips tracing the golden freckles around his neck. Jongin’s whine was shy when Kyungsoo’s hand brushed his crotch, and Kyungsoo was eager to take it further. 

Jongin stopped him, shaking his head even through a heavy-lidded gaze. “Don't. You're too emotional right now.”

Kyungsoo wanted to protest, but he sighed, knowing Jongin was right. Jongin kissed him again, and that immediately cheered him up, rubbing their noses together before meeting Jongin’s lips again. 

Jongin tended to Kyungsoo’s wounds as best as he could, trying to soothe him when he winced. They didn't need to talk. Just holding each other’s hands was comfort enough. Kyungsoo traced Jongin’s knuckles as he told him of being caught by his father, determined not to see Jongin’s reaction. Jongin tugged his chin up softly, tucking a stray hair behind his ear, “I’m so glad you're safe.”

Kyungsoo smiled widely, the same warmth rushing again. Jongin was there for him, and that was enough for Kyungsoo. They slept under the stars, Kyungsoo holding Jongin tightly against him. 

 

 

The morning after, he visited Baekhyun in his jail cell, smiling sadly at the sight of him trapped in prison. He didn't think Baekhyun deserved it, but the law was the law, and Kyungsoo sadly didn’t have any power to do anything about it. 

They shared tales and Baekhyun wished him well, as he did to Baekhyun too. He met up with Jongdae, thanking him profusely, “How did you even know anyway?”

“I saw you with that Baekhyun, and realised that he looked suspiciously like one of the gang members from witness reports.” Jongdae explained, shrugging, “I brought my team and realised that we had even the big boss there. Can't believe that's your father.”

“I wish you didn't have to believe it either.”

Jongdae chuckled, assorting some paperwork. “I've told Sehun everything by the way. He came here this morning wondering where you were and why the shop wasn't locked properly. You should probably check up on him.”

“I will,” Kyungsoo sighed, patting Jongdae on the back, “Thank you again.”

“It was my pleasure, Kyungsoo.”

 

 

 

When he got to Sehun’s boutique, Kyungsoo froze at the door, biting his lip in near panic. In Sehun’s hands were the papers that Kyungsoo had left strewn all over the table the night before. He approached Sehun silently, only staring at him. Sehun glanced up after a while, looking at Kyungsoo with an awed smile.

“You never told me you were _this_ good,” Sehun said, glaring playfully at Kyungsoo.

He chuckled, “That's because I'm not.”

“I beg to differ,” Sehun pointed towards his drawings, shaking his head with a small smile still etched on his lips, “I’d like to officially take you as an apprentice. If you were up for it, of course.”

Kyungsoo almost screeched, eyes widening at Sehun's proposition. His heart lifted slightly, happiness making his legs jiggle on the spot. He really, really wanted to hug Sehun, but he only nodded, albeit a little too eagerly. 

Sehun raised a brow, spreading his arms, “You can hug me if you want, Kyungsoo.”

The invitation needed no more words as Kyungsoo literally engulfed Sehun in an embrace. He hugged Sehun tightly, giggling slightly into Sehun’s shoulder. Things were finally looking up.

 

 

 

Jongin was distant that night, and Kyungsoo, for the life of him, didn't know why. Jongin’s denim jacket was slightly wrinkled, and the pink shirt inside was barely ironed too. Kyungsoo wondered if he was alright. There was a rose pink cape in his hands, similar to the deep green one Kyungsoo had, but Kyungsoo didn't question it.

“Sehun offered to teach me, in other good news,” Kyungsoo quipped after a while of silence. Jongin smiled, the first genuine one in the past hour, and congratulated him.

“You deserve it, Soo.”

He thought the news would elate Jongin, but the dry congratulations made Kyungsoo rethink. “Are you okay?”

Jongin sighed, slumping in his seat as he seemed to mull something over. Was Jongin finally breaking up with him? Were they even dating in the first place? 

A small vial filled with red liquid was set on the table, and both Jongin and Kyungsoo stared at it. Kyungsoo, in confusion, and Jongin, in utter contempt. Kyungsoo wondered what the vial was filled with to have made Jongin that abhorred by it. 

“That's the potion to turn you back to normal.”

Kyungsoo’s blood froze, eyes like one of the deer in the headlights. He stared at the vial, shaking his head as his stomach plummeted. His voice was shaky as he asked, “Do I have to take it?”

“It'll make you freeze when you should, and you'll forget about me too,” Jongin said, voice cracking slightly, making Kyungsoo’s heart break with it. “It's...essential that you drink it. It's all in the rules, Kyungsoo.”

“But I don't have to- we can just secretly meet up or I can follow you on your endeavours!” Kyungsoo tried to reason, still refusing to believe that this potion was what held the end of their relationship. Not when Kyungsoo had just started to maybe fall for Jongin a lot more.

“You'll die if you don't, Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispered, pained, “As much I would love spending more time with you, I don't want to be the reason you suddenly drop dead in front of me.”

Kyungsoo kept silence, tears springing in his eyes. His voice was small as he replied, “But I don't want to forget you at all.”

“I don't either, Kyungsoo,” Jongin sighed, resting his forehead on Kyungsoo’s, eyes closed. Kyungsoo kept his open, staring at Jongin’s temples, golden-tipped lashes, golden strip on his cheeks. A literal golden god. And this was the last time he would see him. 

He tried to stay awake, but even after kissing Jongin, from his lips, his eyes, his neck- Kyungsoo still succumbed when they cuddled, eyes closing and greeting slumber. He heard a sob somewhere, and the pop of a cork from the vial. Kyungsoo gently held Jongin’s hand, intertwining their fingers, and squeezing once. It was reassurance, for both him and Jongin.

Then he really did sleep, his dreams of Jongin turning into a gold blur.

 

 

 

_Kyungsoo woke up, blinking blearily at the mess on the table in front of him. He cleaned it up some, stacking the papers and scraping the wax from the candle off of the table. As he stood, a cape or cloak of some sort fell off of his shoulder. It was in pink, and something that Sehun didn't have in his shop at all. The stitching was immaculate, and the fabric so soft against Kyungsoo’s skin. He wondered where did he even buy it. Was it really his? How come he had no memory of it at all?_

_Kyungsoo decided to ignore the impending questions, only folding it up and placing it with the green one he had found on him too. He swept the place, mystified by the slight twinkle of golden dust on the floor, looking neither like glitter nor sequins._

_His heart raced at the sight of it for some reason, but Kyungsoo pushed it off as curiosity. He swept at another corner, gathering the dust in the middle but the golden ones had totally disappeared._

_Kyungsoo probably needed more sleep. He was even hallucinating now. Sehun came at eleven, as per usual, and he happily greeted Kyungsoo, offering him breakfast._

_“Will you teach me how to make cloaks first?” Kyungsoo requested through a mouthful of pancakes. Sehun tilted his head, but nodded anyways._

_“Yeah, sure, we can start after breakfast.”_

_“Great,” Kyungsoo beamed, thinking back to the rose pink cloak he found earlier. He would love to be able to sew like that one day._

_And with that, Kyungsoo’s determination bloomed once more._

 

 

 

**epilogue • 12 AM**

His maroon oxfords tapped on the stone steps leading to the boutique in the heart of town. Jongin held his satchel tighter, tucking his hands deeper into his pockets. It was Christmas, snow falling lightly on the streets. 

The bell jingled when he walked in, lips lifting immediately at the sight of his favourite human slumped on the sofa, a santa hat on his head even as he slept. His red sweater was huge on him, and his cheeks glowed from the drinks he had earlier, Jongin presumed.

He looked even more beautiful than the first time Jongin had seen him. Definitely getting chubbier and happier, Kyungsoo was positively glowing. Jongin sprinkled the golden dust on him, a little bit extra as per usual. He was still much in love with Kyungsoo, and it was almost pathetic; this feeling he harboured still, but it was enough. Kyungsoo looked healthy and happy, so it was all good. 

Jongin left the shop after he sprinkled some on the other patrons of the shop- Sehun and that policeman, Jongdae, who was still awake when time had stopped, both laughing. He wondered if that was how he and Kyungsoo looked like.

He shook his head, trying to let the thoughts disappear, but they lingered. The stars glimmered in the snowy night, reminding him of longing that was as soft and pillowy as snow but sharp and stinging as the cold. 

Jongin shuddered, tucking his hands back into his coat, just waiting for the next day to come so he could see Kyungsoo again.

**Author's Note:**

> ah, so to clear up: 
> 
> •ksoo was immune bcos of the cape and jongin's feelings.
> 
> •yes the timekeeper at new york is the statue of liberty idnejfndd
> 
> •yes theyre may be side chenhun if u squint
> 
> •and yes that is the ending. some love just aren't meant to be forever :") 
> 
> hope everyone enjoyed reading nonetheless :) comments and kudos are very much appreciated, don't be shy ;)


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